


Trott and Smith go Halloween costume shopping

by ghostofgatsby



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hair Braiding, Halloween Costumes, Non-Sexual Intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-19 17:50:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8219758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofgatsby/pseuds/ghostofgatsby
Summary: What it says on the tin."Hey, check this wig out! I could be Legolas."Smith turns from the racks of swords and plastic weaponry to look at Trott. "If Legolas was in an 80s hair-metal band, sure."





	

**Author's Note:**

> written last year _after_ Halloween  
>  sadly, I didn't manage to get something spooky done for this year, so this is the only Halloween-y thing I'm posting.  
> But! There will be something out _on_ Monday, so keep your eyes peeled for that ^^!
> 
> cw: cursing. should be it. If I need to tag anything else, let me know.
> 
> reblog: https://ghostofgatsby13.wordpress.com/2016/10/29/trott-and-smith-go-halloween-costume-shopping-ghostofgatsby

"Hey, check this wig out! I could be Legolas."

Smith turns from the racks of swords and plastic weaponry to look at Trott. "If Legolas was in an 80s hair-metal band, sure."

Trott laughs and messily adjusts the long blonde wig on his head. "I could roll with that. What are you going to be?"

"I don't know..." Smith follows Trott as he strolls along the racks of weaponry, to the far end where there were bows of varying intricacy. "If Legolas was in a band, what instrument would he play?"

"Something with strings, probably."

"Yeah, I can't see an elf playing the drums."

"Gimli would be a good drummer."

"Dwarves fit the drummer aesthetic. Legolas would probably play a lute or something? You could paint it black."

"Classic." Trott leaves the weaponry behind and walks down the next isle. Smith trails behind him, thumbs in his pockets and idly looking at the assortment of costume accessories.

"Do you have any ideas?" Trott asks, stooping down and looking at goth-looking wristbands and necklaces.

"For what?"

"For what you want to be."

Smith shrugs. "Not really."

Trott hums as he sorts through wristbands and belts. His long blonde hair hangs limply around his face. Smith steps closer and tucks a lock behind Trott's ear so it won't be in his eyes anymore.

"You know, you could borrow my acoustic and be hippy Legolas. Braid some flowers and shit in your hair, wear a tie-dye shirt, and call it a day."

"You just hate to shop, don't you?" Trott teases with a grin. "Hippie Legolas would work, but I don't know how to braid worth shit."

"Really? It's really fucking easy."

Trott shrugs and stands up, tossing his hair over his shoulder. "How do you know how to braid?"

"I have sisters, mate, it's practically required material."

"Well, if you're up for meticulously braiding my hair, alright." Trott grins.

Smith winces. "I didn't say I was, but if that's what you've decided, I'll do it."

"Let's find some 70s shades. _Totally_ thought I saw some back here..." Flashing a peace sign, Trott leads the way down the next isle and picks up a large pair of round, blue sunglasses. " _Groovy._ "

"Fuck, why." Smith groans, shaking his head. "I should have just let you stick with hair metal."

Trott just laughs and waggles his eyebrows over the rim of the lenses.

 

"This wig is a rats nest," Smith sighs, running the brush through it to get the knots out.

"At least it's not my real hair. I can't imagine what a pain it would be to comb it every night."

Trott sits cross-legged in front of Smith. They're sitting on his bed watching original Star Trek re-runs while Smith fixes Trott's hair.

"You didn't have to put the wig on before I combed it."

"I just wanted the excuse for you to pamper me."

"Uh huh." Smith rolls his eyes. He glances over Trott's shoulder at the tv-screen, where Captain Kirk is talking to Spock and Bones.

"Does it look bad?" Trott asks quietly.

"Nah," Smith smooths a stray hair back into place. "It's just a wild weave, that's all."

" _Wild is the weave..._ " Trott murmurs in a David Bowie impression.

Smith laughs.

 

When the wig is once more knot-free, Smith sets the brush aside and starts to part Trott's hair into sections.

"How many braids do you want?"

"He normally has two small ones on the side, and one braid down the middle."

"Right. Do you want more than that, or...?"

"Sure, go crazy."

"You don't want _too_ many braids, though."

"Smith, if I'm going to be hippy Legolas, I'm going to be flower child as fuck," Trott says over his shoulder.

"Alright, alright." Smith laughs. "Flowered to fuck it is."

There’s a fake feel to the hair. It’s too smooth without being soft as Smith’s fingers braid the strands. He sings absent-mindedly and ties off each braid with tiny rubber bands.

When Smith’s done braiding, Trott hands him the bag of fake flowers and a pair of scissors. The colors of the flowers matched Trott's tie-dye shirt and his "groovy" sunglasses.

 

"There. What do you think?"

When Smith is done, he hands Trott a tiny hand-mirror and grins as Trott holds it up to see his reflection.

"I look _fabulous._ " Trott laughs. "Nicely done." He tilts his head from side to side, observing the little plaits and flowers here and there.

Smith stuffs the bits of plastic flowers back in the bag.

Trott slips off the bed and walks over to the bathroom to take a look at the back.

“You could have gone as Edward Elric, Trott.” Smith calls after him.

“Fuck off, I’m not that short!”

Smith laughs.

“And you still haven’t decided what you’re going to be!” Trott’s yell is muffled coming from the bathroom.

“I’ll figure something out.” Smith flops back on the bed with an arm under his head.

“Halloween is less than a week away.” Trott sighs, entering the bedroom again. He undoes the pins in his hair that kept the wig in place, and sets it aside on top of the dresser. “You could be a hippy version of another Lord of the Rings character.”

“I’m not really elf material.”

“Doesn’t matter, you can be whatever you want to be.” Trott fixes his actual hair and flops down beside Smith on the bed. “You could be Tauriel.”

“That’s a movie-only Hobbit character, and no. I’m not that ginger.”

Trott rolls his eyes. “How about Bilbo?”

“No...”

“Radagast!” Trott exclaims, “Mate, you could be hippy Radagast. Or hippy Thorin. Those would be really easy to make into hippies.”

“Ehhh.” Smith shakes his head and grimaces skeptically. “I don’t want to be a hippy or a Tolkien character.”

“Fuck, you’re no fun.” Trott groans.

Smith smiles as they settle back and watch tv. Star Trek is still on, which seems sacrilegious since they’ve been talking about Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit.

“...Treebeard?” Trott pipes up.

“Fuck off, Trott.”


End file.
